// this involves self harm. please be patient with this one. //
Mirrors and pictures distort images.
When you look in the mirror, you see yourself. You fake smile, you turn around too see if your butt looks good, you ruffle your hair and smooth out your clothes and then you walk away, thinking thats how you're appearing to every one else that day.
Pictures are the opposite. When you look at pictures of yourself, you see a moment frozen in time. You see yourself expressing a single emotion, whether that be boredom or horror or anything in between.
You think that these things are an accurate representation of how you look in the real world.
They're not. No amount of standing in front of a mirror or staring at a photo can make you view yourself like everyone else does. And Josh Dun has been trying his best to accept that fact for years.
The drummer has always had a problem with him having a record breaking low self esteem. He only saw flaws when he ever saw himself. Its gotten to the point where he avoids mirrors and videos of himself and refuses to look at reflective surfaces in general. It's a hard life when every single time you look at yourself, you think 'Wow, I honestly see nothing valuable here.'
But he cant avoid the mirror forever.
So there he was, standing in the band's dressing room, staring. Staring into the body mirror. Staring into himself. He immediately recognized the major flaw he didn't like today.
His scars.
He hated the little white lines that decorated most of his body. He despised them.
His scars were easily his biggest insecurity, because it was only his fault that he had them. He couldn't help the rest of his insecurities. He was born with his face, his body shape, his smile, his everything else.
But those long white lines that are littered around his stomach, his thighs, his arms, his hips.. Self inflicted. And the thought of that hurt.
What hurt a hell of a lot more though, was that despite how much he hated the scars, he continued to add them.
Josh lifted up his black tank top just enough to reveal the harsh red lines on the drummers stomach, wincing when he pressed on them. They were a week old, almost completely healed at this point.
Josh let his shirt fall back to where it originally sat. He tore his gaze away from the mirror to look down at his wrists. the jumbles of lines and sloppy words he's carved into himself in the past years of his life. He looked at the blade in his hands, mind blank.
And suddenly there was blood. The red fluid flowed down Josh's arm, until it hit the lowest point of his skin and dripped to the concrete floor below. Josh just stared down at the single slice in his arm, sighing when the blood started to clot at the surface, slowing the soft drips to a stop.
Josh closed his eyes and sighed once again. He wanted more.
God, he was messed up.
When he opened his eyes again there was more blood.
Slice.
He was useless.
Slice.
He was hideous.
Slice.
He wasn't an important part of the band at all.
Slice.
He was easily replaceable.
Slice.
Everyone liked Tyler more.
Slice.
Tyler.
He froze for a few seconds before throwing the razor to the ground, stumbling towards the other room. Tyler was going to be back soon. He needed to clean his arms up and somehow hide the fact he just did this.
Once in their bathroom he immediately leaned on the sink, feeling light headed. He quickly turned on the water and shoved his arm underneath, hissing in pain once he did.
Tyler had went out to laser tag with a few guys from the crew for some post show fun. That was a few hours ago.
Josh grunted, frustrated that the trails of blood stained his arms slightly. He started rubbing his arm, tears gathering in his eyes because of the pain before he froze.
He heard door to the dressing room open. He was screwed.
He shut off the water and sat down on the floor, his whole body shaking. He hasn't done something this bad in months. Tyler was going to hate him.
He heard the gasp come from the other room and tucked his knees to his chest. He was so stupid. The fact there was blood on the ground and a blade out there never crossed his mind.
He heard the familiar sound of metal against concrete, knowing that Tyler had picked up his tool.
He took a deep shaky breath when Tyler softly knocked against the door. "Josh?" He murmured before slowly entering, aware that Josh wasn't going to reply.
The singer sighed and grabbed a rag the bathroom was stocked with and soaked it with warm water before sitting down next to his best friend.
Josh knew the drill. It's a drill they haven't done in a while, but its one they both had etched into their minds no matter how much time passed. He slowly moved his wounded arm to where Tyler had access to it, still hiding his face.
The occasional whimper escaped his mouth as Tyler cleaned up and bandaged his cuts, tears streaming down the mans face. He was so selfish. He knew by Tyler's breathing that the taller was doing his best to hold back tears. Josh only hurt him.
Once Tyler deemed Josh's wounds safely patched up, he situated the two to where Josh was leaning against his chest.
"Josh, you're the most beautiful person I've ever met in my entire life." He murmured, kissing the others head and rubbing his back.
"I-I.. I'm sorry." Josh whispered, cuddling up to his best friends chest.
Tyler hummed and shook his head. "Nope. Don't be sorry. If anything I should be sorry for not being here for you, gorgeous." Tyler mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows.
Josh just scoffed, knowing that would get his point across.
"Let me clean up the rest of this mess. Then we can get to the bus and play some Mario Kart and talk about what happened, yeah?" Tyler said, softly moving Josh's chin to where they could make eye contact.
The drummer simply nodded and stood up, wiping his dried tears.
Josh isn't the best at realizing that not every sees him the way that he sees himself in the mirror.
He knows that.
And because of Tyler, he might actually have a chance to start believing it.
-
// thanks //
